


Incarnadine

by Patience_on_a_Monument



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Bloodplay, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Injury, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 19:59:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10498419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Patience_on_a_Monument/pseuds/Patience_on_a_Monument
Summary: Viktor has a blood transfusion after an accident on holiday and it leaves him on edge.





	

The door eases closed with a soft click, Viktor reaching for the light switch in the dark of the apartment as the sliver of light from the hall narrowed. Yuuri edges past him to shuffle his winter woollens onto the stand by the door and pauses to frown slightly as he tugs at his cold, damp gloves as they stick to his fingers.

It had been an exhausting fortnight. Viktor can feel it stretch taut between them, and the ache in his shoulder twinges harder in sympathy. He adjusts his arm in the sling while he considers the hunched neck in front of him, running a finger quickly down the protruding vertebrae standing proud like the plates of a stegosaurus, smiling at the image. Yuuri turns to look at him in confusion and Viktor does a quick about turn to scoot into the kitchen to hide the ridiculous smile splitting his face in two.

He feels Yuuri glide up behind him to gently put hands on his hips and rest lips on his neck, careful with him like he will shatter under his fingertips. His Yuuri should know it would take more than this to break him. He’s a World Champion athlete, after all.

“Are you feeling any better to be home, Vitya?” comes the quiet murmur at his jugular, and he can’t help his shiver. “It wasn’t too much in one day?”

Viktor turns his head to the sleek head of hair tickling his cheek and presses a kiss to the crown. “Better already; like it never happened. I’ll be doing somersaults along the balcony by the morning,” he replies, trying to inject his voice with as much of the light and full of energy as he always feels around his favourite (only) student while he holds back the tiredness he feels dragging down the edges of his mind. 

He feels the shake of hair across his face couple with an unamused grunt, and he is unceremoniously herded into the bedroom to nap while Yuuri deals with the unpacking from his stay in the hospital to get through. There’s a vague realisation that the luggage from their disaster of a holiday must have been unpacked while he was stranded in bed for days in St. Petersburg hospital waiting for his green light to go home.

The expedition had seemed like the perfect short trip to celebrate Viktor’s return to skating and his narrow silver at Nationals: See the Northern Lights while it was still wintery enough; show Yuuri the beauty of the Russian wilderness closer to the Circle; most importantly to have some time just to themselves far away from the pull of the rink. Nothing quite worked out like that.

There’s a soft _whump_ as he is gently guided back into the downy covers, and he gives a long sigh as the day catches him, and the excitement of his recent past sweeps through him and carries him off to dream in snatches and snippets of the trip.

  
  


A late winter storm, a marooning in some no name town in some forsaken corner of the country. An overconfidence on rough ice on the journey from hotel to train station after a calm and restrained argument with the station master, Yuuri anxiously shifting weight at his side as he watches and understands nothing. A slip, a fall, a cut straight through his very expensive outerwear and deep into his armpit. A lot of blood. Blood running down his hand, staining the snow, staining Yuuri as he crowds into him with screams and tension. Too little blood at the tiny two-person clinic, and they need his O- blood stocks rationed for everyone else. Waking up with a new bag dripping into his arm, blinking until he can read Юрий Катсуки scrawled in thick black ink across it, and then turning to blink at that same Yuuri Katsuki curled up in the chair beside him, warm fingers loosely knitted with his own. Then sleep. Then transfer to St Petersburg and the inevitable onslaught of press and paperwork and Yuuri out on the battlefront outside the door to his room, and the skip in his heartbeat as he watches the love of his life fight for him.

  
  


Viktor starts awake again, cold and chest heaving, and there is a moment where he cannot process where he is before he recognises he is back in his own apartment, not in a hospital room or home in Hasetsu. He tries to reach up to push his hair off his forehead where he can feel it stick, and comes up with resistance in his sling. A long sigh escapes him before he wriggles off the bed and staggers sleepily into the shower to try and at least get that done by himself without bothering Yuuri, still busy tidying in the kitchen if he is hearing right through the bedroom door. It takes an age and he gets horribly bored and frustrated, but he manages and swans back out into the living room preening at his accomplishment.

This time he’s the one cuddling into Yuuri’s back and he relaxes instantly into him, while Yuuri starts just slightly at his sudden appearance.

“Viktor! Are you okay? Did you get enough sleep?” he creaks out, before dropping his voice and narrowing his eyes as he notices the damp skin pressed against his own. “And did you shower by yourself? You know I would have helped, what if you hurt yourself?!”

Viktor gives him his biggest, smuggest grin and watches Yuuri melt under it. “Yes. And we can always get back in the shower if you want. I’ll never pass up the opportunity, you know.”

“You’re too much, Viktor Nikiforov.”

“And you’re exactly the right amount for me, Katsuki Yuuri.”

  
  


They make a dinner salvaged from cupboards and freezer and eat in companionable peace as they readjust to their surroundings quiet and slow. Yuuri doesn’t let Viktor do any of the tidying up, and undresses him at the end of the night, although there isn’t a debate on that one once Yuuri steps into Viktor’s space and reaches out to pry open shirt buttons.

When they are both under the covers, they end up facing each other by lamplight as Viktor traces his fingers down the side of Yuuri’s face, his hurt arm still curled into his ribs in the sling. Yuuri is looking back at him with love and care, and his heart swells until it hurts in his chest.

“Do you know this is twice you have saved me, Yuuri?” he whispers. Yuuri’s eyes widen, just fractionally, and gives a hurried shake of his head. “You saved my life before, when it felt there was nothing I was living for you came blazing into it and showed me exactly what I was missing. You gave me my love back so I could give it to you.” He feels his voice break, and the sting of tears in the corners of his eyes as Yuuri lays a hand over his own as it cups his face, but he keeps going. “And now again by giving me your blood. It’s so much more than I could ever have asked from you. There’s nothing I can do that will ever be enough to repay you for what’s you’ve done for me Yuuri.” He can’t look away from the huge eyes across from him as they shuffle closer into an awkward, perfect hug and tangle their legs together. 

“You’ve given me everything, Vitya, please don’t ever underestimate that,” Yuuri whispered, and Viktor could imagine he felt the heat radiating from that beautiful blush. “Without your skating I would never have stayed on the ice. Without you finding me I would probably have retired and be living quietly at the spa without ever realising what I was missing out on.” There’s a sudden glint in the eyes boring into him. “I won’t lose you.”

There’s a flash fire burning through his veins when he sees the possessiveness flaring and it billows out of him as he surges forward onto Yuuri’s lips. There’s a question, a need for confirmation that flashes in Yuuri’s eyes for a split second. Then he relents and then he is giving as good as he gets, his hand moving round from Viktor’s waist to grip his ass and pull their hips closer together, lips pressed to each other for the shortest time before the kiss turns open-mouthed, noisy and desperate. Viktor is having trouble breathing, is overwhelmed by Yuuri so close to him after so long at a clinical distance, and he takes whatever sweet oxygen he can straight from Yuuri’s lungs. Their rhythm is off and there’s teeth when there shouldn’t be, but he can feel the desperation and relief channelled into him and suddenly realises he wasn’t alone in needing this.

Viktor pulls back with a low groan when he moved the wrong way and jostled the wound on his shoulder and the ache starts smouldering anew.

“Yuuri, I need you in me tonight, please, _please_ ,” and he knows it comes out as less of a seduction and more of a whine but he’s far too needy right now to care. “You don’t know, you can’t know what it’s like to know you’re in my arteries all the time, in my heart right now where you always are. It’s strange, I’m strange, but - hah – I guess I’m greedy and it’s not enough and I need more, all of Yu-ah!” Yuuri moves immediately and attaches his mouth to Viktor’s left nipple. As he tends to it and starts licking his way over to the right Viktor feels a burning blush rise high on his cheekbones, but it’s Yuuri’s blood in his cheeks and the thought only makes him hotter.

Yuuri leans off the bed to the bedside cabinet for a second, and Viktor relishes the cool air that breezes over him to cool his hyperaware body. He knows this is an aftereffect of his being so on edge and his mind playing tricks on him over the transfusion, but he is happy to ride the high while it lasts.

And then Yuuri is back and shuffling down to get into a better position for prepping Viktor, and he is being very adorably obvious about not letting Viktor move his shoulder while the pillow slides under his hips and he spreads his knees. Viktor loves him so much, and every time he thinks he has reached maximum capacity for affection he is surprised again.

He’s ready now, and more than willing, and as Yuuri pushes his way in careful and slow he is overtaken with the same feeling again, of Yuuri inside him and permeating through him, permeating his tissues just as thoroughly as he is overtaking his senses, leaning over and running a hand up his side to his ribs then down again to take hold of his straining erection with lube-slick fingers. He gasps, and the thought of Yuuri’s blood surging through his cock rips a guttural moan from deep in his diaphragm at its obscenity.

Yuuri is gentle, so gentle, rocking into him with practiced precision and it takes him no time at all to find his prostate and bring him close. Yuuri is close too, and the connection between them feels tangible and solid and Yuuri is everywhere. He’s in him through and through, in his ass, in his veins, in his heart, moaning _Vitya_ desperately into his ear as he comes, and the sound of it drives Viktor over the edge as his free arm pulls the sheets tight.

Yuuri pulls out as Viktor is coming down, and far too soon is moving away to get rid of his condom and bring over tissues. He is still feeling terribly clingy and possessive, and as soon as Yuuri is in range of his arm he is reeled back in for long, languid kisses which he is given with the smallest of giggles. It’s everything he ever wanted, Yuuri here and his and so very giving, more than he can ever hope to repay.

They can’t really spoon with the sling in place, but when Viktor settles down on his back Yuuri curls in round his side and it feels right, pressed close and with new aches and full up of each other.

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt I got for this was essentially "romantic blood transfusion", and I do love a challenge.


End file.
